


the dangers of frisbee golf

by mothicalcreatures (laelreenia)



Series: College Au [1]
Category: StreetSlam: Wishes of a Broken Time - Leon Langford
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Meetings, Frisbee Golf, M/M, Minor Injuries, Pre-Relationship, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:53:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8400703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laelreenia/pseuds/mothicalcreatures
Summary: Face meet frisbee.Or:Garrison Rygel gets a little more than he bargained for walking home from class.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The primary prompt was: my two favorite characters in an awkward situation.  
> The secondary prompt (the awkward situation) was: You decked me in the head while you were playing frisbee golf.
> 
> This is one of two fics with the primary prompt because I couldn't decide on just one secondary prompt.  
> The second is [not interested](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8400883)

The problem with a solid quarter of the campus doubling as a frisbee golf course was the fact that at any given time, weather permitting, there could be any number of people playing frisbee golf. This was a problem, because only a small handful of those people could actually throw those frisbees with any amount of precision, which meant that walking through the western quad could often double as something of a duck and cover exercise.

The university was also particularly studious about ignoring the complaints that several of the frisbee golf goals were too close to major walkways.

Basically, you really needed to pay attention to what was going on around you when walking through the western quad and Garrison was very much not doing that as he was heading back to his dorm.

Garrison had his headphones in and he was totally enveloped in the music. He so deep in his own head that he probably wouldn’t notice what was going on around him unless it hit him in the face.

Which it did. One of those godforsaken rubber disks (that were denser and harder than regular frisbees) hit him dead in the face.

Garrison doubled over a hand coming up to cradle his now bloody nose and ripping out one of his earbuds on the way.

“Oh fuck!”

Garrison righted himself as he heard the exclamation followed by footsteps running towards him.

“Are you okay? Oh my god, you’re bleeding. I’m so so sorry.” The guy was incredibly flustered. _And incredibly cute_ , Garrison’s brain added helpfully.

“I’m okay,” Garrison forced out.

“Are you sure? I mean do you need to like, I don’t know, go to the health center? I have a car, I could take you.”

“Is your car close?”  
“No, uh, shit. I’m so sorry.

Garrison took a deep breath. “My dorm’s not far, I’ll be fine, really.”

The guy stood there awkwardly, very obviously not knowing what to do.

“I’m Garrison,” Garrison offered, shrugging off his backpack. He had tissues somewhere he could shove up his nose until he got back to his dorm.

“Chris Blaze.” Came the stilted reply. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Practice your aim maybe.” Garrison hadn’t intended to sound so short with the guy, but he wasn’t going to lie he was a little peeved.

“Sorry.”

Garrison sighed. “You could also dig through my backpack for me. I have a pack of tissues somewhere.”

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that.” Chris dropped to his knees to start going through Garrison’s backpack.

After a moment or two he founded them and passed them over to Garrison who immediately pulled all out them out and shoved them under his nose. “Thanks.”

Chris went ahead and zipped Garrison’s backpack up for him.

Garrison muttered “Thanks” again and hefted his bag over his shoulder.

“Uh, do you want my phone number? Like in case… I don’t know.”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary,” Garrison started, but then well, Chris was cute, and he was offering Garrison his phone number… “But if it makes you feel better than sure, we can exchange numbers.”

 

And that was how he returned to his dorm, with a bloody nose, plus one cute boy’s number.

“Dude what happened to you?” Devin asked when Garrison came into the room. (Devin was Garrison’s roommate.)

“A cute boy hit me in the face with a frisbee,” Garrison said, pulling the bloody wad of tissues away from his nose and dropping his bag.

Devin laughed. “Of course you lead with the fact that he was cute. Did you get his number.”

“Naturally,” Garrison replied. “And I didn’t even have to ask.”


End file.
